


because within this pitch black darkness (you are shining so brightly)

by turnipemoji



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, Langst, M/M, Star Wars AU, Violence, brief hance if you squint, obligatory star wars jargon, recurring bad metaphors, space battles pew pew, very very fast burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnipemoji/pseuds/turnipemoji
Summary: The pilot raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You need a pilot.”LN groaned. “I need a pilot.”The shorter man grinned, big and dangerous. “Good. I’ve always wanted to fly a TIE fighter.”trope: presumed dead





	because within this pitch black darkness (you are shining so brightly)

**Author's Note:**

> in case anyone is confused about locations, here is a link to an interactive map of the Star Wars galaxy: http://www.swgalaxymap.com/  
> title is from BTS - Save Me
> 
> tw: if blood and stuff grosses you out, go from "Lance yelled with a start" to "Lance shouted when he reached the crest of the hill" to skip over that section

All around LN, people were screaming. Children cried out for their parents, unwilling adults were herded into clumps, a few brave souls rushed towards the soldiers only to be shot down.

LN felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The blaster in his hand was heavy. The sand of the ground rushed up into his armor’s joints and scratched at his skin. The town center was littered with bodies, and LN tripped involuntarily at the sight. Suddenly, another hit the dirt, wearing white and black.

Already dead.

LN had been taught to leave. He had been trained to turn his back and keep firing. But something made LN stop. Something about being back in the dorms, sharing a smile and a touch. Something about feeling human.

He rushed to the trooper’s side, fumbling for his hands. “Hey, buddy? BZ? You’re fine, you’re fine, I’m here…” He trailed off, losing his breath.

BZ only looked up at him, streaking his blood-covered glove across LN’s helmet. It left a stark red mark across his face mask. BZ’s hand fell limp at his side.

_No. He was supposed to be invincible._

Shakily, LN stood. He had to get out of here. There was no way he was letting himself kill anyone. Gasping for air that wouldn’t fill his lungs, LN took a step back, stumbling over his heels. He searched the area for his commander, gaping at her. How can she let this happen? How can she stand by while innocent people are being murdered?

A large engine sounded from behind him, accompanied with a bright light and a cloud of smoke. Lotor was here.

“Surround the prisoners,” Commander Acxa’s voice buzzed through the intercoms. “Don’t let anyone escape.”

LN took his place in the line of troopers confining the townspeople. If he showed any signs of hesitation, he would be dealt with by the Empire. Lotor began to walk towards the pack of civilians, his eyes searching.

All of a sudden, a shot sounded from behind him. Lotor whipped around and stopped the bullet in midair. The blue streak of light was shaking with energy as if it was angry.

“PD! LF! On them!” Acxa shouted. The two troopers grabbed a figure from behind a sand bank, struggling to restrain them. In the light, LN could see that the shooter was a man, dressed unlike the rest of the planet’s inhabitants. His hair was long and tied back, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat. The troopers threw him to the ground, sand kicking up and dirtying his jacket even further. Lotor bent down next to him. LN was too far away to hear what they were saying, but he could easily understand the outcome.

Lotor motioned the man to stand, then struck him across the face and ordered the soldiers to put him on the ship. The man just spat on the ground at Lotor’s feet, earning him a kick from one of the men.

Commander Acxa’s voice broke through LN’s hazy vision. “Kill them all.”

The others around him began to aim and fire, but LN’s gun lowered. His arms fell useless to his sides, eyes staring at the bloodied sand.

 

He was a pilot, LN discovered.

Some of the other boys were talking about it back in the dorms on base; he was the best pilot in the Coalition, they said. LN just sat in the dark and listened to the boys joking, their voices hushed. He didn’t sleep at all that night.

 

After checking into Commander Acxa’s unit first thing in the morning, LN rushed to the prison block. He had to be fast to make sure nobody saw him on his route (he worked maintenance, which was nowhere near the cells). He looked around, anxious, before entering the code to open the block he knew the pilot was being held in. Checking behind him one last time, LN shut the door and ran down the hall.

“He has to be in one of these, I know he has to be,” LN muttered to himself. “Where are you, you little- Bingo!”

LN slammed his hand onto the button for the pilot’s cell, breathing heavily. He took a step into the room but stopped short when he caught sight of the other man.

The pilot was trapped in some sort of metal straightjacket, arms pinned at his sides and ankles to the back of the contraption. He was leaned back just far enough that if he lifted his head it would be uncomfortable, and his wide hips sat unnaturally on the stiff, flat metal. His head lolled against a metal headrest, sweat and blood matting his hair down. His face was pulled into a frown, dirt splattered on his face like freckles. Yet, LN thought, he looked beautiful in the obtrusive light; it was a pale, ghostly kind of beauty that made LN’s breath hitch.

Shaking his mind clear, LN rushed over to open his bonds. The pilot jolted awake at LN’s touch, shouting in quick bursts.

“Wha- what are you- who- get off me-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, you’re safe, I’m getting you out of here,” LN reassured him, but the pilot was still panting and struggling against LN’s hands.

“No, you’re a storm- a trooper, get OFF-”

“Stop moving! Wait-” LN clapped one hand over the pilot’s mouth, taking off his helmet with the other. “I’m breaking you out of here!”

The pilot stopped struggling. Looking at LN with confusion, he reached up with a newly freed hand and took LN’S hand off of his mouth. “Why?”

LN stopped short. Why was he rescuing the pilot? He barely knew anything about this guy. But he did know that he needed to get away from the Galra, and this was his ride.

Standing straighter, LN declared, “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

The pilot raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You need a pilot.”

LN groaned. “I need a pilot.”

The shorter man grinned, big and dangerous. “Good. I’ve always wanted to fly a TIE fighter.”

 

“Stay calm, stay calm,” LN whispered. The main hangar was relatively quiet, but they had to be quick. LN had his blaster pointed at the pilot’s side, navigating through groups of men repairing engines or cleaning droids.

“I am calm,” the pilot replied coldly, staring straight ahead.

“I was talking to myself,” LN grumbled, poking the other with his gun.

The TIE fighters were lined up the walls of the main hangar. Carefully steering the shorter man towards them, LN made sure the coast was clear before pushing the pilot up the ladder.

“Hurry up, you big-”

“Get off my ass, I’m going!” LN frowned, but kept following the other man.

They scrambled up to one of the fighters, jumping into the back-to-back pilot and gunner seats. The pilot made quick work of shedding his jacket, while LN threw his helmet onto the floor with a gulp. The pilot seemed almost gleeful even though they were in immense danger, and Lance gulped.

“You sure you can fly this thing?”

“Trust me, I can fly anything,” the pilot responded, shooting a glare over his shoulder. “We’ll have to see how you fare with those guns, though.”

“Oh, fuck you, you’re talking to the best sharpshooter in the whole Galra Empire!” LN exclaimed. “Just get us out of here.”

The pilot chuckled. “Alright, I’m going. Hold on tight!”

The TIE fighter unlatched from the hangar wall with a blare from the engines. LN’s heart lept into his throat. This was actually happening. He was actually escaping the Galra Empire with the captive Coalition pilot. He was going to be free.

 

As soon as they took off, guns were firing at them.

“Can’t you move this thing any faster?!” LN screamed at the pilot behind him.

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” the pilot responded, frustrated. “On the left!”

“I see him.”

Manning the lasers was actually pretty terrifying. Even though LN was fairly familiar with TIE fighters in principle, actually being in the seat of one was a whole different animal. The guns jerked wildly from side to side as LN tried to get used to the controls, unable to get a close enough aim on the fighter to shoot.

“We’ve gotta take out those towers if we want a chance of getting out of here,” the pilot said, expertly weaving through the Galra fire. “Can you get a clear shot?”

“With straight cannons I can, the mag pulse will do more damage but they’re pretty wild.”

“Cannons won’t break the hull. Use your mag pulse. I’ll swing us around, get us in position.”

“If you say so,” LN said, breathing out shakily. “Steady now, steady…”

The TIE made a full turn and paused.

“NOW!”

LN pulled on the trigger, firing three mag pulses at each tower. Direct hits. The towers exploded in waves of yellow and white, shaking the surrounding cruiser.

LN whooped, jumping in his seat.

“Now that’s what I call a sharpshooter!” The pilot yelled, turning to grin at LN.

LN’s face grew hot, a red blush creeping up his ears.

“What’s your name, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“Your name. I never got it.”

“LN.”

The pilot paused. “LN?”

“It’s the only name I’ve ever known.”

“LN, yeah? If you’re really gonna get away from the Galra you might as well get rid of that name. LN, let’s see, what about Lance?”

 _Lance_.

“Yeah. Lance sounds good. What about you?”

“Keith Kogane, Coalition squad leader.”

 _Keith_.

“We have to get back to Jakku,” Keith said, breaking through Lance’s reverie.

Lance choked on his own spit. “What? We can’t go back to Jakku! We need to get out of here now!”

“I have to go back, there’s a droid I left down there, I have to get it back to the Coalition as soon as possible.”

“You’re insane! I am not going back down there for some droid!”

Keith groaned. “I have to get that droid, it’s a trilateral probe, one of a kind. My friend would have my ass if I didn’t get it back to her.”

“We need to leave! The Galra will find us if we land! We have to--”

“Lance, listen to me! It’s carrying a map to Takashi Shirogane!”

“Shirogane?” Lance said, quiet with wonder. “I thought he was a myth!”

Lance was cut off by a blast hitting the wing of the TIE fighter. The craft started to spiral downward, pulled by the planet’s gravity.

“Shit,” Keith said, “The controls are short-circuiting, I can’t pull us up. We’re going down!”

The sky felt silent. “For the record, it was good to meet you, Keith.”

After a moment, Keith replied, “It was good to meet you too, Lance.”

Lance closed his eyes and braced for impact.

 

When Lance woke up, the first thing he saw was sand. He was surrounded by it. The hills rolled to every side of him, tan peaks and slopes glittering under the hot sun.

Lance lay on the soft ground. The sky was blue and cloudless with the sun hanging directly overhead. He felt his eyes begin to close, but then he remembered the pilot.

Keith.

“Keith!” Lance yelled with a start. He scrambled to stand and look for his companion. A cloud of dark smoke rose in the distance, marring the horizon. Lance took off running only to stumble and fall. A piece of shrapnel from the fighter was lodged deep into the back of his knee in the chink of his armor.

“Shit,” Lance muttered, trying to remember what he learned back in survival training. While he took great pride in healing other people’s wounds, Lance had always hated treating his own injuries, from twisted ankles to burns. Most of his prior experiences were either from the sparring deck or a kitchen knife gone wild, so he’d never had to deal with anything of this scale before.

Gently, he tried to wiggle the metal piece.

“Fuck!” Lance cried. So much as touching the shard sent hot wires through his leg. He glanced up at the smoke over the hill.

 _Keith needs me_ , Lance thought. _I have to help him_.

Reaching down again, Lance gripped the shrapnel with a steady hand. He started to tug, momentarily blinded by spots. Hissing in pain, he looked down. Most of the metal was still sunken into his knee, but it seemed to be thinning, most likely into a point.

Lance took a deep breath, a sudden rush of adrenaline flooding his senses. He pulled on the metal firmly, sliding it out of his skin. Red clouded his vision, but he kept pulling until the piece flew out of his hand into the sand, staining it red, leaving only a deep gash. Lance screamed, a guttural cry, pain attacking his body. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t think. He reached for his calf blindly, ripping off his armor. He tore off a piece of his tight lycra pants and quickly tied it around his knee to stop the blood.

Sweat stuck to his forehead and tears poured from his eyes, but somehow Lance managed to stand. He staggered towards the crashed TIE fighter, struggling to breathe.

“Keith!” Lance shouted when he reached the crest of the hill. His knee gave way and buckled and Lance fell, rolling down the sand.

“Keith,” Lance whispered the pilot’s name as he crawled towards the wrecked fighter. “Keith?” The hatch was broken, glass falling as Lance threw open the door.

“Keith!” He shouted as he reached his hand inside the craft, fumbling to grab something, anything. His hand latched onto hot fabric and he pulled it out with all the strength he could muster.

It was Keith’s jacket, red and yellow patched stained with ash and faded from wear. It winked at Lance in the sunlight.

“Keith,” Lance repeated one last time before passing out, Keith’s jacket on his chest and face to the sky.

 

After that, the world became blurred. Lance found himself a void, trudging through dunes hoping to find some shelter. Pieces of white armor marked the trail behind him, slowly collecting dust in their crevices. His empty stomach fought against his bones and tore holes in his memory, and his eyes fazed in and out with every step. His heart, the subtle stirring of blood in his veins, was the only reason he carried on through the endless fields. It yearned for something he had lost - no, someone he had lost.

Every night, Lance fell to the earth with the sun and slept. He dreamed of piercing, dark eyes that twinkled with stars, of a sharp grin with soft edges, of quick words, of calloused hands.

 

Years later, Lance would try to make sense of his time in the desert. Some said he had been “soul-searching.” Others would reassure him and say that it was “all part of the angels’ plan.” Lance only listened to one voice, the voice that breathed against his back in the dark and made quick work of his frowns, the voice that had turned him inside out, made him a new man.

 

By the time he reached a village, he had no idea how long it had been since the crash. But there was water, and that was all he cared about.

Lance limped through market stalls shouting for water. His voice felt hoarse with disuse and burned with the strain. He continued to circle, crying out. Finally, he crumpled to the ground in the town square, sobbing, croaking with what little breath he could get.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

A boy about Lance’s age was kneeled over him. His eyes were soft and laced with concern, and Lance was lost in them.

Lance grabbed one of the boy’s hands, bringing it to his cheek. Then his eyes fluttered shut and he blacked against the boy’s chest.

 

When Lance opened his eyes, he was in a bed. That was the first strange thing. The second was that he could smell food being cooked from another room.

The walls of the room were covered with papers. They were tacked up haphazardly, crowded and crooked. There seemed to be one of everything: hand-drawn diagrams of aircraft, faded recipes, constellation charts from every corner of the galaxy. The room was warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon.

“Good, you’re awake.” The boy was leaning against the doorframe, a shy smile on his face. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t get up, but let’s not talk about that.”

Lance couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Thank you for saving me.”

The boy walked over to where Lance sat on the bed. “Well, I wasn’t just going to leave you there. I’m Hunk, by the way. What happened to you?” He offered Lance a steaming mug of something and a pill. “Drink this, it’ll ease your sore throat. The pill will help lessen the pain from your leg. You got pretty beat up.”

Lance took it, the hot steam wafting up onto his cold cheeks. “Hunk. I, I’m not sure… everything happened so fast. I was a stormtrooper-”

“You were a what?!”

“A stormtrooper, with the Galra. I know it’s hard to believe, but I managed to escape. See, there was this Coalition pilot who the Galra captured on this planet, and I helped him get out. In return, he flew me away. But we were shot down and crashed in the desert. He…”

Lance choked over his words and trailed off. Tears rolled down his cheeks, drawing clean lines in the thin layer of dust that covered his face.

Hunk gasped in realization. “He didn’t make it,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” breathed Lance, shaking.

Hunk wrapped his hands around Lance’s shoulders, drawing circles on Lance’s back with his thumbs. For the first time, Lance really felt safe.

 

“What did you make?”

“Nothing much,” Hunk replied. He’d donned an apron and was standing over a simmering pot of soup. To his left, polystarch biscuits were growing in a bowl. “Just what I could muster up. There’s not much out here in the Western Reaches in way of trade, and the closest inhabited planet to us is Jedha but that’s all the way in the Mid Rim. Jakku is mostly moisture farms and scrap dealers, anyway.” He set a bowl filled to the brim with thick soup down in front of Lance. “Eat up!”

“This smells amazing,” Lance admitted. “How did you learn how to cook so well?”

Hunk looked down. “I’ve always had to be… self-sufficient,” he said, sighing.

The two young men sat across from each other and ate, one albeit slightly more violently than the other. Quiet peace hung about the small room, brightening the light streaming through the open windows.

Suddenly, from one of the many cluttered tables, a steady buzzing started. It gradually grew louder, finally reaching Lance’s ears. His head shot up, almost painfully. “What’s that noise?”

Hunk looked around. “Oh, that? That’s a droid I picked up a few days ago. It was flying around the square like it was panicking and was shrieking- or, beeping, I guess. I managed to catch it and it finally calmed down and I was able to bring it back here.”

“A few days ago?” Lance stood and walked over to the droid, gently picking it up. “This is…”

“A trilateral probe. I’ve never seen one quite like it before. Looks like it’d been built from scratch, and considering it said its name was Rover I’d bet that it was.”

Lance felt faint. “This was Keith’s. Or, his friend’s. Or something.” He looked at Hunk with eyes wide. “This was with Keith when he was captured.”

Once Lance mentioned Keith’s name, the probe let out a high-pitched squeaking noise and bounced from side to side in the air.

“This was the pilot’s? The one you crashed with?” Hunk asked, striding over to the droid.

“He said he left a droid, one of a kind... and he said it was carrying a map to Takashi Shirogane.”

“Takashi Shirogane? The long-lost jedi?”

Lance nodded, completely lost in thought. “I have to get this back to his base,” he whispered to himself.

“I’ll fly.”

“You’re a pilot?”

Hunk blushed. “Well, I’m an engineer, but it’s actually pretty easy to pick up how to make things work then you actually have to make them work.”

Lance laughed. “Hunk, you’re amazing! Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Use the Force, for one,” Hunk responded, a grin lacing his words, a grin that Lance heartily returned.

Lance turned back to the droid. “Okay Rover, we need to give you back to Keith’s friend as soon as we can. Where’s your base?”

The droid responded with a long string of beeps and boops, hovering steadily in front of the man.

“Oh no,” Lance gulped and turned to Hunk, who was trying not to burst out laughing. “Do you speak binary?”

“You’re in luck, I do. The droid said, and I quote, “That information is classified because I don’t trust you and because you look like a sneaky fucker.’”

“Sneaky! I am not-” Whipping back around, Lance stared at the droid. “Listen here you little shit-”

“Lance-”

“Tell me where-”

“Lance! Shut up!” Hunk ran over and clapped a hand over Lance’s mouth. The taller boy was shaking and trying to hide it, but Lance could tell. He reached up and took Hunk’s hand in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin of Hunk’s wrist.

Overhead, they could hear unmistakeable sound of TIE fighters.

“We need to get out of here.” Hunk muttered. Lance nodded slowly, straightening up. “I have a quadjumper out back. It can get us pretty far, but I can’t guarantee anything past the Core.”

“Rover, you need to tell us where your base is if we have any hope of getting out of here before the Galra find us.”

The droid paused as if considering the two before softly beeping a few times.

Hunk gaped. “The Ileenium System?” He strode back to the bedroom with Lance quick at his heels.

He glanced around before locating a certain star chart. “I can definitely get us to the Ring of Kafrene to refuel. Malastare would be a stretch-”

“Malastare is Galra territory. That’s a no-go.”

“Kafrene?”

Lance thought. “I think that system is clear.”

Hunk breathed a sigh of relief. “We should hurry. I’m just going to get a few supplies together, then we can take off.”

“Hey, Hunk?”

“Hmm?”

Lance smiled softly. “Thank you. I really mean it.”

 

_three days later_

 

Quadjumpers were noisy ships, and this one was no exception. It was an old model, barely used in recent years. As it touched down on the bank of one of D’Qar’s many rivers, the force from the engine blew down the surrounding foliage like the trees were toothpicks. Both inside and outside the ship the sound was deafening: it wheezed and groaned as it landed, finally quieting down into a tapering hum.

Hunk and Lance hesitantly descended the ramp, Rover leading them in a way that seemed excited.

“Alright, alright buddy, we’re coming,” Hunk called to the droid. “I know we radioed in to alert the base that we were on our way, but I’m still nervous, you know? What if we talked to the wrong people? What if this is all a trap? What if-”

“Hunk,” Lance cut him off. “We’ll be fine. The Coalition needs that map. The fact that they let us land means that they trust us, okay? It’ll all work out.”

As they neared the base, a small figure sprinted out of the open bay. It bounded over to the group, arms outstretched.

“Rover!” The figure - a young woman, they realized - shrieked, leaping up to wrap her arms around the droid. She wore soft gray pants and an olive green top, wire-rim glasses glinting in the morning light. The droid let out a string of noises that seemed to be laughter, if that was possible. It held the girl aloft for a few seconds before setting her down on the ground, both carrying on in their hysterical giggles.

The girl stood and brushed off her knees, sticking out her hand. The bridge of her nose was littered with tiny freckles like stars on a clear night. “Katie, Katie Holt, but most everyone calls me Pidge. You must be Lance and Hunk. Follow me, the Princess wants to see you.”

 

The trio made their way into the base’s main chamber. A group of pilots, engineers, and higher-ups alike was crowded around a central hologram table. A crowded map of a star system was being projected from the table, blue light illuminating the faces of those analyzing it.

Lance scanned the group, immediately finding the Princess. She was, for lack of a better word, stunning. Lance was star-struck by her presence. She obviously commanded the room with her regal stance and focused eyes, not to mention her beautiful features.

However, it wasn’t the face of the Princess that made Lance’s heart short-circuit.

Standing at Allura’s right hand was Keith.

Keith, the impulsive pilot. Keith, who was lost in the crash with only his jacket left behind. Keith, the only boy to ever make Lance cry.

He was here.

He was alive.

“Keith!” Lance screamed out his name like it was the only word he knew.

Keith’s head snapped up at the sound, disbelief on his face. “Lance?” He breathed. “Lance!”

The pilot broke from the group and started to run towards the other man as if in a trance, picking up speed as his eyes began to cloud with tears. Keith threw his whole weight against Lance, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s shoulders. Lance fell back a step but returned the embrace, tightly hugging the pilot’s middle.

“Keith, Keith,” Lance breathed into the shorter man’s hair. He smelled like smoke and honey, just like the jacket, and Lance never wanted to let go.

“I thought you died,” Keith said into the crook of Lance’s next, tears dampening Lance’s skin.

“I thought _you_ died!” Lance pulled back, cupping Keith’s face in his hands. At this distance, Lance could see the slight flecks of blue in Keith’s dark eyes like stars. Their noses pressed lightly together, and then they were kissing.

They kissed like starving men, breathing in each other’s air like it was all that could sustain them. Lance’s lips were chapped and dry, but Keith’s were smooth and soft. Lance’s stomach twisted and turned with his heartbeat as he pulled back, a dreamy smile working its way onto his face.

Keith coughed and took a step back, a hot red blush completely covering his face.

Pidge let out a low whistle. “Get it, Keith,” She called under her breath, smirking.

Keith whipped around. “Pidge, what the-”

“Lance, Hunk, I’m so glad you’re here,” Allura shouted from across the room. “Please, bring the droid forward.”

Pidge and Hunk walked towards the hologram table with Rover hovering in stride with them, eager to complete the mission.

“Is that my jacket?”

Lance looked back to Keith standing in front of him. “Uh, yeah, here-” He moved to take it off, but Keith put up a hand to stop him.

“Keep it. It… it looks pretty good on you.”

Lance flushed and put the jacket back over his shoulders.

Keith grabbed Lance’s hands in his, bringing them up to kiss the knuckles. “This meeting was boring anyways. Come on, let me show you around base.”

They would figure this out later, whatever this was. They still had a war to win, after all. But for now, the former stormtrooper let himself be led away by the pilot with the sky in his eyes, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of [VLD Tropes Fest](http://vldtropesfest.tumblr.com) | Comments and Kudos are appreciated | Anonymous creators will be revealed after the masterlist is posted!


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